Beyond the Veil
by Nataniki
Summary: Edward's traveling West, to reasearch alchemy. Though when searching for an artifact, he finds a little more than some transmutation circles... Ed/Win LANGUAGE WARNING
1. Down the Rabbit Hole

Edward rested his head against the window of the train, watching the scenery go by. He liked traveling by trains, it was a relaxing method of transportation. Memory flooded him, he'd ridden many trains while travels with Alphonse in the pursuit of regaining their bodies. Edward's chest tightened with pride at the thought of his brother, whole and human once more.

They'd done it, and now Al was whole again.

The events of the past two years filled Ed's mind, and all that they'd accomplished. Roy had regained his sight, Hawkeye hadn't been killed, his father was... well, his father, a man he could be proud of. Edward grasped his right hand with his left, a habit he'd gotten into over the past few weeks, reassuring himself it all wasn't a dream. That journey was finally over.

Yet Ed couldn't help but smile, it felt strange to be traveling alone, but good too. It felt right, now that Al had his own body, to let him travel on his own. And so the Elric brothers had parted, the eldest going west and the younger going east. Al was going to Xing to study alchemy with May, and Ed was glad that he would have all the time in the world to live the life he'd missed out on while trapped inside the armour.

The only thing that Edward felt even the slightest sadness over was the loss of his alchemy, yet he could never bring himself to regret his sacrifice. _(Edward sat, his words slurring and his eyes blurry, laughing with his younger brother. "Stupid fucking Truth, to think my alchemy was worth your body. As if your life is worth some fucking transmutations!" Ed slams his hand down on the table, his laughter booming.)_ Winry helped greatly in his understanding of living without alchemy, and Edward couldn't help but feel indebted toward her. Edward could still feel her against his chest, and hear her words: _Well, _almost _my whole life._

Winry's laughter rings in his ears as the train lurches to a stop. Edward stands and gathers his things, a brown overcoat and a bag containing a change of clothes and his money. Focusing on the task at hand, Edward departs from the train and onto the platform of the border town between Aerugo and Amestris.

After the mysterious 'disappearance' of the Führer, friendly relations between the two countries were again fostered, and a trade agreement written out. As a result, border towns such as the one Ed was in became more common as demand for travel rose. The resulting trade embargo between Aerugo and Creta however meant that tensions still ran high between the three countries.

Yet Edward wasn't here for anything diplomatic, he was looking for a travel guide willing to take on the former Fullmetal Alchemist. Edward was following a legend of a stone gateway that lead to another world. The pursuit of the Philosopher stone had taught him how much accuracy can be in a simple tale, and Edward wanted to find out if this legend was true, and if it was, if it was dangerous.

The bustling activity of the town lay before Edward, and he breathed in the cold air of the changing season. His leg port ached; rain must be coming...

* * *

Harry whipping up in his bed, his body covered in cold sweat, images of his godfather's torture playing before his eyes. _I have to go, _was all he thought.

* * *

Edward stood in the rain, his guide several metres back slumped against a tree, a cigarette protected by his body from the elements. A large mound of dirt lay before Edward. _This is it?_ He thought. _A fucking mound of DIRT?_ Looking back to his guide, he indicated that he was going to look around to the burly man.

As he walked, Edward pulled his coat around him tighter, not used to the dampness of Aerugo yet. He began searching the surrounding area, making tight circles around the mound. Looking back, something stuck Edward. The mound looked like no geographical formation he'd ever some across, it was too... perfect, the grass on top too trim and green. Edward's brilliant mind began working, and he began searching deeper into the surrounding woods.

When he'd searched several square kilometres, frustration gripped Ed. Searching for a dry... ish place to sit down and think, his automail port ached in agreeance. Finally Edward stopped in a little clearing and beneath a tree he crouched to sit between two rocks.

_THSSSHK_

The ground under Ed slid apart and he tumbled underground, sliding down a muddy slop until he reached the rock bottom. Looking up, Edward calculated he must've fallen about ten metres. Before reaching to climb back up, Edward looked into the cavern he'd fallen into. The sliver of light that came from the hole he'd fallen from didn't illuminate much, but it lite the tunnel enough to show Edward that it travel much further back, towards the mound.

Curiosity burned inside of Ed, and he fumbled though his pockets to find _something_ useful enough, or at least dry enough to serve as a torch. Inside his right pocket Ed found a bundle of matches dipped in wax, a useful trick he'd picked up while traveling. Digging through his left pocket all Ed could find was his train ticket for getting to Aerugo, which he promptly lit.

The cave lite up, and Ed began walking down the tunnel, guided by the little fire. As he turned a corner, light began showing from further down, and Ed mused for a moment as to how it was possible.

"Shit!" Ed yelped as the fire burned the fingers of his right hand. It always surprised him just how sensitive the skin of his right arm was compared to his left. Shaking the pain off, Ed continued by the light provided.

The cave began an incline up, and Ed slipped once or twice on the wet stone. As he reached the top, Edward's brain raced with theories. The light he'd seen was from a huge stone gateway. A fluttering piece of fabric moved in the middle of the arch, and as Ed stood, he could just barely make out movement from behind the sheer fabric.

Despite what his brain was telling him was possible, Edward could hear the faintest of shouts coming from beyond the veil, though he couldn't understand what was being said. Taking a step forward, Ed began calculating what was happening before him, yet nothing he thought up made any sense as to what he was seeing. In moments Edward Elric stood before the veil, watching through the fabric at some sort of battle.

What was happening confused Ed, he thought he could see them fighting with alchemy, but it was unlike any he'd ever seen before. Light shot out of the people's hands, and it seemed more to be a light battle than any fight Ed had seen, which mostly relied heavily on physical aspects as well.

Suddenly a man appeared on the other side, and their gazes locked. The man looked tired, dark circles prominent under his eyes, and he looked much older than how he carried himself. His black eyes stared into Edward's golden, confused at what he was seeing. Edward reached out his hand, to prove what he was seeing was some sort of illusion, a fabrication of his imagination. Right before his hand made contact a flash of green light hit the other man.

* * *

Harry watched helplessly as Sirius fell ever so slowly, dead, into the veil. His heart stopped, anger flowing through his veins. He. Would. Kill. Bellatrix. As he reached for his wand, Siruis fell to the floor and a blinding flash of light made Harry turn away.

* * *

Edward stood unsteady on his two legs, looking at the scene before him, then back to the gateway. Somehow, he was on the other side. Everyone was shouting in the language he couldn't understand, and light was flashing everywhere. Whipping around, Edward looked at the archway behind him, the rippling world he'd left gone. He reached his hand out, but grasped nothing, simply passing through the void.

Light flashed by him and drew his attention back to what was happening, and Edward quickly dodged as another flash of light was aimed at him. After what had just happened, he was not chancing getting hit with one of those lights, be they red, green or blue. It didn't help that Edward had no idea what was going on and everyone was shouting.

Dodging another flash of light Ed began running, searching for anyway out of this room. He knew he's come from the archway somehow, but it didn't look like he was getting back through at the moment and he really, _REALLY _did not want to get hit by one of those lights like the other man had.

Quickly Ed pinpointed a door, though he had no idea where it lead, and began running through a stone hallway.

"Where the fuck am I?" Ed shouted to no one in particular, turning another corridor and trying to find some sort of exit.

* * *

Harry felt rage boil up inside him as Voldemort fled, and he look up to Dumbledore, who was standing a metre or so from him, a sad look on his face. Any moment now Fudge would appear, and Harry's ears tuned into someone running their direction. A boy turned into the main room, his golden hair disheveled and her piercing gaze confused.

"Stupefy!"

The boy's whole body seized up and he collapsed on the floor, his muscles twitching. The Minister of Magic was followed by several aurors, and went quickly to talk to Dumbledore.

Harry's eyes were focused on the boy though, as an auror attended to him. He looked too lost to be a Death Eater, and Harry had never seen him before... _Who is he?_

Auhor's Note: I just liked this idea better, and it came to me after I wrote the other chapter. I hope you don't mind the change, I really think the whole _Ed is somehow at Hogwarts_ thing is getting a bit old... so here's my take on how Ed might end up there :D

Aerugo and Creta are neighbouring countries to the west of Amestris, both of which have been at war with Amestris since Bradley became Führer, though Aerugo is the more diplomatic country, I thought it would be fitting for Edward to travel there. Enjoy.

EDIT: Fixed some grammar and spelling, sorry for all who read it and were bothered :)


	2. The boy

Author Note: Thank you for reviewing, if you have any suggestions for the plot, feel free to well, suggest. The language Edward is speaking is an altered version of German, I've added and taken away to create Amestrian

Disclaimer: I own my ideas, nothing else

* * *

Groggily, Edward lifted his head, his neck aching from staying in the same position for so long. The room, or chamber, or something, he was in, was so dark he couldn't tell if he'd open his eyes or they were still closed. Trying to stretch his neck, Ed chafed his hands painfully against the rough rope that bound them.

Ed held his breath and listened, trying to hear if the room was empty. Satisfied that he was alone for now, Ed whistled sharply, listening to the echo. The space was relatively small, and likely stone. A cellar? The air was damp enough, and there was a chill in the air as if he was underground. Edward couldn't smell anything over the scent of mold however, so he couldn't tell if there was any food near by... It felt like hours since he'd eaten at the flat he'd rented.

Suddenly Ed could hear voiced, and his whole body froze. It seemed to come, muffled, from in front and above him. He strained his ears but still couldn't make out the dialect being spoken. Aerugoan? Some western language he could tell, it definitely didn't sound like Xingese or any of its variants. As Edward pondered this, he shifted his hands despite the pain behind him, shuffling them under his body and in front of him. If only he had alchemy...

Shaking the thought away, Edward focused his energy of trying to figure out what was being said.

* * *

Snape's expression didn't change as he stood with Dumbledore in front of the Weasleys root cellar. It was a terrible place to keep a prisoner of war, yet the old Order headquarters had, tragically, fallen into the hands of one Harry Potter. A vial of veritaserum in his innermost robe pocket, Snape was being briefed by Dumbledore, having just apperated from the headmasters office. Snape's eyes narrowed at the conversation that had just concluded.

"We found him in the Ministry after fighting Tom." Dumbledore continued. "Seems to be a muggle, took quiet a slight of hand on Tonks part to get him into Order custody." The old wizard lay a hand on the potion master's shoulder, his pale blue eyes locking with Snape's black. "We need to know how he got into the Ministry, what he's after and if he's somehow connected to Voldemort. If he's just a muggle, all the better and we'll let him on his way a little lighter for memory, if not..."

"He becomes a prisoner of war indefinitely." Snape finished.

Dumbledore sighed, casting his gaze sullenly at the cellar door. "Yes, unfortunately... Such a young lad, such a pity if he really is involved in this war..." The pair stood quietly. "Well, Molly didn't make this lovely meal for it to get cold, shall we?" Without speaking, Snape pulled out the vial and poured the contents into a steaming mug of tea as Dumbledore held it out. With a wave of his wand, the door creaked open and Dumbledore led Snape inside, holding the tray with a large, grandfatherly smile on his face.

As the two wizards entered, the torches of the cellar flicked to life, sensing their magic and responding. The cold stone room illuminated as they descended. Snapes calculating eyes locked onto those of the boy sitting in the corner, his hands bound behind him. What surprised him most wasn't the colour, a strange inhuman gold, but the way in which the eyes sized him up instantly. The potions master had met many young people in his life as a professor, but none of them had ever given him a look of such potent intelligence. There had never been a person that Snape had been more intrigued to use Legilimency on.

"Dreadfully sorry you've been put down here, we're between offices at the moments so the accommodations are perhaps a bit.. bleak." Dumbledore smiled, sitting down across from the boy, who leaded against the way watching the old man with his golden eyes. "But no worries, no worries, a hot meal and good company shall fix that." The plate of food was put down, charmed to stay hot it contained beef stew and fresh bread along with the tea.

Snape observed the boy carefully as Dumbledore spoke, noting the flash of confusion on his face as the old man spoke, though it was quickly gone. The boy made no indication of movement as Dumbledore introduced himself.

"My name is Dumbledore, and I need you to answer a few questions for me."

* * *

Edward wasn't sure what was the most suspicious part of the situation, the goodwill after kidnapping, the old man smiling at him, or _the greasy man standing in the corner watching it all..._ The old man seemed to want something from him, but he was talking in garbled nonsense and Ed really had no idea what he wanted.

The food in front of him smelled so tempting, and his stomach ached. Eds gaze hardened. Accepting food wasn't really a good idea... It was at that moment that his stomach decided it hated the body it was host to, and growled menacing at the old man. Ed watched as he smiled and pushed the food forward, at least he stopped talking and seemed to be waiting for him to start eating.

Grudgingly, Ed gave into his body's demands. _If I die, I'm blaming my stomach, stupid organ is good for nothing... _Edward held the bowl of stew tentatively, watching the old man the entire time as he chewed the warm meat, contemplating. He'd understood none of what the old man had said to gim before, though he thought he heard a couple of Amestrian words, only pronounced horrendously. This old man wanted something from him, but nothing was really being communicated. Ed really couldn't say he trusted the old man even enough to speak yet, he had woken up tied in some dark cellar. For all he knew the old man was a serial killer...

For twenty minutes Ed ate, taking his time chewing, and sopping up all the stew left over with the bread. He hadn't realized he'd been so hungry. _And poisoning someone you're trying to get information from is stupid anyways. _Ed though as he picked up the still warm tea. The liquid felt too sweet on his tongue, though Ed added none of the hated milk offered by the tray. He's seen people from the west add milk to their tea, and he found the practice disgusting. Tea was good enough without cow juice...

* * *

Dumbledore watched carefully as the boy drank the tea, his mind working on the situation. As soon as the boy finished the tea, Dumbledore prepared his first question.

"What is your name?"

"Ichen binz Edovard Elric. Vie iztch Ihr?" The boy slurred out, looking surprised that he'd spoken, then angry. "Vaz habenze zie mitchke angetcha?" he growled, his eyes a blaze. The boy was instantly on his feet, and Dumbledore realized that he'd never actually untied his hands, he'd somehow done it himself.

"Vo binzge itche?" the boy's golden eyes bore into Dumbledores pale blue, but the older man held his gaze until the youth looked away and sucked his teeth in anger.

"Allez, daz itche wünstcheke, iztch, zu meinem Brudder natch hause zu gehentch, bumsen, vo überhaupst diesest istch. Ichen habez genug einschtließlich meine Alchimie verlorenk, möchte ich geradez natch hause gehenght und Winry heiraten..." The boy muttered, sitting back down, looking rather defeated. Dumbledore stood without saying another word, and looked pointedly at Snape.

"Well, I guess we shall leave you for the time being, I'll be sure to send someone with more food and amenities as soon as I am done speaking with my friend here." The old wizard said, even though it has become clear that the boy didn't speak English at all. Dumbledore made a geture and left the boy with Snape close behind him, the flames of the torches flickering as they passed, but not going out.

* * *

"What did you get from him Severus?" Dumbledore asked quietly once they were outsize, his pale eyes fixed off into the distance. The potions master fixed his cloak before he spoke.

"Images mostly, he was very confused. I've never heard a language like the one he spoke. Germanic almost, but like no dialect I've ever heard. That in itself is suspicious enough" Severus Snape thought about the boy, how suspicious he was of them despite his lack of connection to the Dark Lord. "I saw nothing of the Dark Lord though, a girl and a boy, little else."

Dumbledore nodded, and the two men stood for a moment in silence. "I saw little as well, nothing for certain." The old wizard lifted his hand to stroke his long white beard.

"I think we'll need a little more time than scheduled to figure this young man out." Dumbledore pondered, his hand moving slowly up and down, until he rested his hand against his side again. "I would like you to tell Tonks she will be bring his meals for the next little while, and you will accompany her at least once a day, to try and find out more from this boy." Dumbledore looked towards his potions master. "He's a muggle isn't he?" Snape hesitated, then nodded.

"Let us refrain from using magic around him for a little while then, at least."

* * *

Note: If I've made any mistakes, I'm sorry, but feel free to point them out and I'll fix them as soon as I can.


	3. Onion soup

Author's note: I like pie

* * *

Edward grumbled to himself. It had been almost a week he'd been in the hated cellar. Everyday he'd been brought meals by a woman named 'Tonks', her sad eyes kept diligent watch on him, along with the greasy man. They'd taken to letting him out late at night to clean up and walk around, though they kept their sticks pointed outward, not directly at him but in view.

Of all the things Ed had witnessed thus far, the sticks were the most strange, and were thus the reason he'd not been able to escape. The alchemy they created was fascinating, though the former alchemist suspected red stone involvement considering the lack of equivalent exchange. Edward Elric had none the less be unable to flee his imprisonment, and every time he tried he was knocked unconscious and left in the dark until his next meal.

The language barrier was decreasing, but slowly. Ed knew Tonks' name, and simple commands for his captors. 'Toilet', 'thirsty' and 'fuck you' were high on his list, and he used them frequently. The old man had not visited Ed again, though the former alchemist hated the presence of the greasy man, who's name he did not know and only seemed to watch him.

Right now Edward was alone, between meals and dreadfully bored. It really didn't help that his body ached, from sitting all day underground(though he had been brought blankets, which helped slightly) as well as the fact that his body was growing. His bones ached as he made up all the growing he hadn't done while he'd been lending his strength to Al's body beyond the gate. It was exhausting. All he knew was that he'd taken to doodling circles on some paper he'd been brought, though he could do nothing to activate them _(Edward stared at the paper, trying to feel the familiar hum of alchemy inside his chest. He clapped his hands and stared at his palms. Nothing...). _Nothing new, just simple transmutations. Changing the shape of the matter, converting a liquid to a gas and so on. Child's play.

Tell tale signs of foot steps approached and Ed tensed despite the week worth of example he shouldn't. He could harbor no trust for these people, he was an obvious prisoner and he had no idea why. Tonks descended the stairs, holding a tray of food. From what Ed could smell it was eggs and bacon. The scent filled the small room.

Ed watched the woman move carefully, filing away all the information he was learning for plans in his escape. She was obviously sad, and had progressed further towards depression as the week had gone on.

Neither of them spoke as she offered him the food, Tonks body curled in on itself.

"Vhy are yov bein'k da sad?" Edward asked brokenly in her language, which surprised Tonks. The boy, Edward rather, had barely spoken but to swear at them and demand something, yet despite his accent, he seemed to have spoken. She looked down at the blond haired boy.

"I didn't know you could speak English Edward, that really would've made all this much easier-"

Ed held up his hand to stop her from talking. "Leernin'k. Neine fazt if yov pleeze." While Ed had begun to grasp the language, he was in no way perfect in it. Despite his prodigy status, he still needed time to decode things. His golden eyes watched the woman carefully, with her mousey brown hair and deshevelled clothing. "Firzte, qvestion haz for yov I."

Picking up a piece of bread, Edward tore into it and put it in his mouth, chewing carefully. "Vhere iz heare?" he asked, popping another piece of bread into his mouth.

Tonks straightened. "You're in the English countryside, I can't say anymore than that as to specifics."

Ed mulled over what she's said, working over the words he didn't know until he understood what she's said. "Vorde againe. Englizhe. Vhut englizhe? Plaze, langvage?"

Tonks stood still for a moment, before answering. "English, you know, Britain, the United Kingdoms, Europe..." Something about Ed's gaze was off putting to her, a lack of any recognition that made her worry. How had he never heard of Europe? "I have to go now Ed, you enjoy your meal." She said quickly, hurrying out of the cellar before he could say a word to stop her. She needed to find Dumbledore.

* * *

Harry had just finished his onion soup and been told about Mr. Weasley's promotion, and was now looking at the clock which told all of the Weasley family's fates. The clock had always intrigued him, though he thought Mrs. Weasley was wrong in thinking it was broken, and he began to tune out the motherly woman's rambling about her husbands new job.

"Oh!" Molly exclaimed. "He's coming!"

Harry turned his attention to finishing his bread as the couple went about their door questioning _(Harry tried not to chuckled at the 'Mollywobbles' comment. He'd make sure to NEVER mention that to Ron...)_. Mrs. Weasley quickly referred him to bed, and without question Harry went to sleep in Fred and George's room, his body feeling heavy with the weight of his night and thoughts of Slughorn as the next DADA teacher.

* * *

Mr. Weasley looked at his wife tiredly, then to the clock. He sighed as he picked up his bowel of onion soup. "I don't suppose you know if Tonks had already brought that boy his meal?" The red haired man asked, his eyes becoming pensive. He did not in any way shape or form like Edward, but his recent promotion had kept his mind mostly elsewhere.

"He has a name Arthur, and yes, she did." Mrs. Weasley sat across the table from her husband, folding her hands in her lap. Before she could open her mouth again, a wispy white shape sank onto the table, its shifting form speaking in the voice of one Albus Dumbledore.

"I am terribly sorry to inconvenience you at such a late hour Molly..." it whispered from its shifting beak. "But I must ask of you the use of your kitchen, we have yet to reclaim our previous headquarters and I'm afraid we must question our dear guest."

For amount neither of the couple spoke, weighing the danger for the children within their custody. Arthur placed his right hand over his wife's, his eyes locking with hers. "He would not ask if there was no other options..." He whispered. Molly Weasley sighed, defeated.

"Yes Dumbledore, that would be alright."

"Splendid, I will be up in just a bit."

* * *

Sorry this took so long and for the length. Have fun


	4. Don't dream it

Author's Note: Christmas is hard in retail :D Also, I totally have a playlist for this fic now :P

* * *

_Ed lay in bed, his arm curled around his pillow. Breathing in deeply, he could smell Winry on the fabric. Warmth spread from his chest and he smiled. He loved nothing more than sleeping next to Winry, his arms wrapped around her body and holding her close. The warm smell of breakfast wafted up the stairs to him as he stretched in bed, loosening his muscles. Ed looked up at his right hand as he flexed the fingers, marveling at the movement._

_Ed closed his eyes as he heard Winry begin to make her way up the stairs, laughing on the inside. Winry stepped in the room, and set the tray of breakfast on the bedside table, watching Edward sleep. She turned her back as she fixed some food onto one of the plates._

_Suddenly, Edward's arms snaked around her hips and he buried his face into her waist as he pulled her down into the bed, laughing as she shrieked in surprise. He rolled her as she fell so she lay against his chest, his golden eyes focusing intently on her features. "I caught you.." he chuckled, tracing the curve of her jaw down her neck unto her collarbone. _

_Winry smiled as Ed began tucking her hair behind her ear absentmindedly. "You're crazy Edward Elric, I think I've told you, yet for some reason..." Winry's blue eyes glistened as she grinned down at him, her long pale blond hair tumbling down her shoulders to brush against his bare chest, her breath warm against his lips. "I lov-"_

* * *

Edward sprang awake as the cellar door was forced open. It was too close to the last time he was fed for it to be food, and he was only let out once a day, or what he thought was a day. Fear spread through his chest, constricting his breathing. What ever was happening to him was confusing, and for the life of him he could not figure out. His whole body tensed as the old man walked down the stairs again, distrust coursing through his veins.

The old man was alone, his blue eyes staring at Edward where he sat, curled up against the cold of the cellar. Something about those eyes reminded Edward of something he often saw, a hunger for knowledge that mostly went concealed.

"It seems you have not been entirely truthful with us Edward. You can speak english."

"Yov tuu, haz niene druth. Lyke teel Tokz, I haz leernin'k daz englizhe, niene khnew." Edward tried to form the proper grammatical tense, but fumbled over the slippery words of 'englizhe'. He already hated the language.

Dumbledore stood still for a heartbeat, then smiled grandfatherly at Edward. Something about the way his demeanor changed put Edward off ease. He knew this type of person, he was going to try and convince him with fancy words that he'd done nothing wrong, and likely do something for him before Edward could be let on his way.

"Well, this makes it much easier now doesn't it? We can converse and try and figure out what has been going on. We've been trying to dig you out of the muggle documents, but it's difficult work, and you were never found in the wizarding..." Dumbledore waved his hands dismissively. "Ignore my talk, you must be thirsty, why don't we go get some tea in the kitchen and have a nice chat?"

Edward stood, shaky after being forced awake. "Ehquivalenze, niene?" he asked, a bitter smile flashing across his eyes. Edward let the old ,man lead him out of the celler, his mind calculating the situation that was about to take place. If he slipped away now, he would never find out why these strange people had kidnapped him and kept him here, and yet he walked into such obvious danger.

Reaching down, Edward scratched his calf as he was led to the house, feeling the knife he'd stolen there. It was a surprise how badly he'd been watched, considering the strange alchemy these people were able to perform. Yet Ed had been able to slip away a small carving knife, sharpening it carefully against the stone within his cellar.

A brief flash of homesickness washed over Ed as he crossed the yard towards the strange house. The cluck of chicken and the smell of the farm land reminded him so much of his old home, though there was not the rhythmic bleating of sheep which he remembered falling asleep to. Ed could recall his neighbour's wandering herd of sheep well, their wool and meat sold yearly to the military.

Edward collected himself and pushed out the memories as he walked through the doorway into the strange house of the 'Veazlnee' family, though he found his mouth could not, in any way shape or form, even begin to shape the name. He thus far hated this strange language he'd been forced to learn through necessity. The words felt like paste against his tongue and left and equally foul taste.

The 'Veazlnee' household was definitely the strangest piece of architecture Edward had even seen, but the young man forced down his scientific shouts of physical laws to concentrate on the old man in front of him, setting down tea onto a kitchen table. Ed waited patiently behind a chair, until the old man was finished setting the tea. Ed hardly contained himself from wrinkling his nose at the terrible preparation of tea, though people from the west were strange and barbaric when it came to tea.

Dumbledore sat, looking up at Edward, confused as to why he was standing, then understanding dawned on him. "Please, sit down Edward." The blond man did as he was asked, his sharp golden eyes never leaving the headmaster's blue.

"So I thought we could talk, because I need to know what side you're on, if any at all. If this has been some sort of misunderstanding, I would like it to be known and you'll hopefully be on your way. Why don't I ask you some questions, then you can ask me some."

"Niene." Edward barked, his eyes steely in their resolve. "I azk qzestion, yov azk qzestion, vone fer vone." Before Dumbledore could interject Edward had already begun talking again.

"Vhere iz heare, diz Englizhd. Cloze duu da Aerugo?" Edward gauged the old man's reaction.

"I have never heard of that place Edward, where are you from?"

"Amestris."

There was a long silence as both men looked at each other, both lost for words at the strange information exchanged.

"Vhut vas daz plaze vitdh zee veel?" Edward finally asked, his stubborn courage burning in his stomach.

"What did you say?"

* * *

Sorry this took so long, I will try not to make a big habit of long intervals between chapters. Poor Ed's all lost and dreaming of things that he can't (hasn't?) have (had?). Ahhh, implications.

WHAT SHOULD EDWARD DO? :3


	5. Undocumented

Edward sat across from the old man, his golden eyes careful to take in every facial expression, every slight movement. Anything that could help him. The former alchemist's question hung in the air. What was the veil, where was it and how could he get back.

"I'm afraid I don't know what a 'veel' is Edward, can you describe it for me?" The old man's blue eyes were harder now, searching for the truth. Edward took a moment to mentally translate what had been said to him, until he could think of what to say.

"Dat plaze, das veel. Iche habe keine Idee, vie mann diezez Vort das Ihrer Sprache, Alchimieplatzke sagt, das der Sie alten Mann kämpften. Vhere da man dis gonee." Edwards brow knit together, angered by the fact he couldn't find the words. This language was frustrating beyond belief.

Dumbledore sat for a moment as Edward had, trying to figure out the boy's thick accent.

"Sie konndener minderstens der verdammtzck Versuch, meine Sprache herausfinden!" Edward growled, his patience wearing thin at how long the old man was taking to reply. Dumbledore looked unamused by the boy's outburst, and lay his hands on the table. "Edward, shouting at me will get this conversation nowhere, we are trying to figure out what has happened."

"Möglicherweise, wenn Sie jetztk zo bumsenzck dumm wareen." Edward smiled, before speaking again. "Das Zorrie, continuuo Dumladoor."

The elderly wizard sat across the table and surveyed the boy. His options in this situation were definitely few. Snape's reports were very inconclusive as to where the boy came from, as all his thoughts were in whatever strange language he spoke. Place Edward had mentioned, this... Ametris, Dumbledore could not think of any such place. Whatever Dumbledore himself had found little information of use in his own prodding into the boy's mind.

"Edward, I am going to be perfectly clear as to what the situation is, but first, would you like a spot of tea?" Edward's cold eyes narrowed at the wizard, remembering what had happened last time he was offered tea. "Niene."

Dumbledore could feel the dead weight of the vial of potion in his pocket as the pause stretched out. "You seem like an intelligent young man Edward, so I need you to cooperate with me. The place you just told me, Ametris, it doesn't exsist-"

"Vut? Niene, Ametris isch daz coountre überz deme shleier hinauz. Veel, bihoonzd." Edward interrupted, his eyes drown in frustration. Why couldn't this stupid old man just understand what he was saying? That weird place with the veil and the man who died was was all he wanted to know about!

Before Dumbledore could reply a silvery form crept into the room, followed by Snape, who was looking just as disheveled and tired 'as always. Both of the men sitting down turned to look at him, Edward's anger finding a focal point as Dumbledore spoke.

"What is it Severus?"

The potions master didn't speak for a moment, his eyes locked with the golden haired boy. His black eyes lazily rolled away as Edward sucked his teeth in anger. "I have news from Kingsley and the Ministry. It seems no one by the name of Edward Elric has ever existed, not even as a muggle. No one has any idea who he is, the Ministry has looked high and low for the boy, and yet not a single one of their records make note of him."

Edward tried to keep up with conversation but there was little he could do, the inflections the greasy man put on words made it hard for him to understand, which only fueled his frustration. From what he could gather though his chances of escape fell through to shit, as both men quickly drew their sticks and pointed them at him.

A heartbeat passed before anything happened. "Vut?" was all Ed could say.

* * *

The next few hours flew by in a whirl of hushed voices and angry glances. Ed had absolutely no idea what was going on, but from what he could tell was it was not good and he was being moved. Some new words were mentioned enough times for Edward to retain their meanings, and he gathered it mostly had to do with a 'Potter', though another word seemed to be able to replace it: 'Harry'. Edward had tried to make conversation with Tonks when he saw her, but her sad eyes avoided his. And so Edward was left to wonder what a 'Potter' was as he analyzed the movement patterns of the group transporting him.

Had it been a normal group of people he might have been able to get away, but one man kept a particularity close eye on him, a older man with a strange eye and a hard temper. Edward couldn't help but think that if he didn't loath everyone involved in this hostage mission the man might make a good officer. He certainly could command well enough.

Yet for all his watchfulness Edward was never again left alone, he now constantly had a guard at all times as they moved though the night. The clothes Ed had been given itched and were a couple sizes too big, and he longed to transmute them into something, _anything_ more comfortable. The familiar tug in his chest came again, a constant reminder that he would never do alchemy again.

Edward sighed as the group around him drew closer and they headed away from the insane place he'd been imprisoned, and out into the country side towards some terrible unknown.

"Vaz itch Alphonse tun solltez?" Edward asked the night, earning him a glare from one of his guards.

* * *

Author's Note: Sorry for not updating for so long, and for the shortness of the chapter, I got off track with the break. For everyone/anyone who is wondering what Edward is saying, it's pretty basic: What am I doing here? Who are you? So on and so forth really.

Things are about to get a lot more difficult for Edward...


	6. Unfortunate circumstance

The Order of the Phoenix was in a serious panic. Digging as deeply into Ministry documents as they could, nothing could be found on the Elric boy. Nothing could be found on this Ametris either. In reality they were entering this whole situation completely blind. Was the boy truly a muggle? There was absolutely no way they could simply obliviate him and leave him in the muggle word, he had no idea what England was and had a freakish ability to learn quickly. He'd probably rustle up far more trouble simply by walking around talking to people than even the least muggle-minded wizard or witch.

This was what made Moody so very, _very _suspicious.

How the boy had come to be still remained a mystery, one that Moody burned to get to the bottom of. Yet, Dumbledore's orders stood. The boy was being transported to the old Headquarters, as all the magic had finally been worked out. With Harry as the new owner of 12 Grimmauld Place, all the old incantations had been broken, and it'd taken a few days to replace all the spell that protected the building.

And so Moody was escorting the Elric boy with Kinsley and two other Order members away from the Weasley home, where a portkey was awaiting them. So far, the boy had been extremely placid, which only served to put Moody more ill at ease. Every guard the former auror had was up, his eye whirling back and forth to watch every movement Edward made. Several hundred metres away from the house, they found an old tea kettle nestled behind some reeds.

This was it, now or never.

* * *

Edward watched carefully as all his guards placed a hand on a kettle, and his hand was forced against it too. An unfamiliar buzz of energy came off it, making the former alchemist's skin crawl. The sun just began breaking the horizon as he felt the energy surge. For the first time that morning Edward moved quickly, his breath trailing out from his clenched teeth as he ripped his hand away just as the others disappeared.

For a moment Edward stood perfectly still, his brain skipping over what had just happened. What had just happened? Pushing the theories back as to where they're went, Edward ran back towards the house. It was still early, and if he was quiet enough he could arm himself and begin running before they got back.

In moments Edward was at the door, and he turn the knob carefully. Locked. For a brief moment he studied the lock, it was similar to the one Winry's family had on their door. Nothing particularity hard, if you held the knob up, twisted counterclockwise and-

The door creaked free of the frame. _Old houses tend to have old locks. _Edward thought. He pulled up his memories of being in the house once before, and followed his previous footsteps to the kitchen. What the fuck had been going on? What sort of operation were these people running, out of an old century house, keeping him in a cellar?

Softly Edward made his way through the drawers, making sure to muffle his sounds. He needed to rearm himself, his old knife had proved to be weak and snapped the night before as he sharpened it. He needed something... Anything.

Just a quick and easy in and out was all he needed.

* * *

Harry couldn't sleep. His mind was racing with thoughts of what would happen over the course of the year, what possible things he could learn. Deep in his daydreaming his mind ignored his stomach until finally it growled so ferociously at him he had to take notice. The house was still cold from the night as Harry rolled out of bed, placing his feet on the old wood floors.

_I wonder what Snape will think of Slughorn as DA teacher_... Harry though as he drew on a house coat and slippers. He looked over to the mountain of covers and limbs that was Ron. That boy really could sleep through thunderstorms. Harry wondered briefly if he should whisper something about spiders to his best friend, just to freak him out in his dreams, but thoughts of toast banished the idea.

Maybe when he got back.

Or maybe he should have some leftovers from last night. Mrs. Weasley had made homemade pasta with pesto from the garden, and there was probably still some left...

A creak against the floorboards downstairs made Harry freeze, his ankles cold between his socks and flannel pants. Something instantly didn't feel right, if Mrs. Weasley had been up it would smell like breakfast, and the sky was only just beginning to lighten.

The creak of the front door drew Harry's attention. Someone was in the kitchen, someone that wasn't supposed to be. Harry reached for his wand, grateful for once that the Weasley's didn't have matches in the house and he's thought to bring it for the stove (Harry sat at the table, watching Mrs. Weasley light the stove. "Why don't you use matches?" Mr. Weasley's excited reply: "Sticks that light fire! I've heard of those, some wizards say-" and the drone of a memory forgotten).

Carefully Harry pointed his wand around the corner, before stepping out into the kitchen. A blur a movement and Harry was face to face with a boy roughly his age, one hand drawn back the other forward with a butcher knife against his forearm and both feet firmly planted, ready to attack.

Both the teens were equally surprised by what they turned around to see. Harry didn't know what to make of the boy, his golden eyes hard and alert, taking in his every move. Before either could fully react the front door slammed against the front hall wall, Moody standing red faced and flustered in the doorway with several Order members behind him.

The next few seconds were a blur to Harry. Suddenly, his arm twisted with pain and he dropped his wand, and somehow the boy now held his hand tightly behind his back and the knife to his throat.

Everyone froze.

"Boy, if you lay one hand on him-"

"Vut?" Edward interrupted Moody, his voice sneering. "Dis boy iz inporevntch?" Moody raised his wand but the golden eyed boy pressed the knife closer. "Ubdectin' dez people iz vrong. Keednapper." Harry tried not to swallow, tried to fight the pain in his arm, but the other boy's grip was tight. Did he work for Voldemort, why was he alone? Questions raced through Harry's mind.

Moody snarled, the boy was back up against a corner, with no window nearby. He had a perfect frontal position. There was no way they could fire a spell at his without possible hitting Harry and the Elric boy seeing it coming. The damn boy was a snake, a deceptive serpent. Rage boiled in the old auror. No child should be able to get the better of him...

"All I vant iz huaz. Take frumm huaz. Keednapper." Harry could hardly understand the boy's thick accent, let alone the intent of his speech. What was he saying, kidnapper? Harry's mind swam with thoughts as to what the boy could mean. Was he the kidnapper, or the Order?

"I really don't think this is necessary." The grip on Harry tightened as the Order let Dumbledore pass. Harry could hear the boy grind his teeth at the sight of the headmaster. Harry on the other hand, felt almost weak with relief.

"Verdammcht lüngner. Zie entführten mitch zie arschlotch!" The boy snapped. "Yoo druog me." Tension hung in the air, beads of blood resting against Harry's neck. As one became heavy enough it rolled down the swell of his Adam's Apple and down his shirt.

"We were only trying to find out where you were from. We are trying to return you home. We want nothing more than for your to return to your family. But the only way we can do that is if you put down the knife and come with us now." Dumbledore's voice was extremely calm, almost uninterested in what was happening. But his pale blue eyes never left Edward, his focus so intent it made the former alchemist want to look away.

"Nein trustch." Edward stated blandly. "Gleitchwertinger aunstaustch olde mann. Vone ding teel me, vone ding teel yoo. Vut doin' to fvind huaz? De home?"

Just as there always had been, for a moments' pause Dumbledore stood still, trying to understand what Edward had said to him. The words finally clicked. "We're looking everywhere for your Amestris. We have searched every document, and we're now looking into our own library, in our own books."

Edward lowered his knife a moment. "Bookes? Vords? Me vreed diz bookes? Vhere?"

Everyone breathed a little easier to see Edward was calming down. It seems he was extremely interested in reading.

"Our school, it has one of the largest libraries on the continent. If you lower your weapon now I would be happy to show you." Dumbledore didn't move as Moody stiffened even more, if it was possible. "Dumbledore, is that-" A raise of the headmaster's hand cut the old auror off and he suppressed a snarl. The danger he was putting the children in by even bringing the boy there...

Edward suddenly seemed to become aware of himself once more, and moved the knife away from Harry and shoved the Chosen One forward towards the Dumbledore. He whipped the blood off onto his pants before slipping the knife into his boot, giving the old man a hard stare. He was keeping his weapon in case he needed it, and dared the old bastard to take it from him.

Dumbledore smiled, putting his arm out to indicate the door. "I'm glad you made the right choice-"

"Fuck yoo." Edward spat.

* * *

Author's Note: I'm really sorry about the wait, I had exams and all that jazz, so fun times. Don't worry, Edward is not going to have any sort of faculty involvement where he's going... :)

When I orininally wrote this I totally forgot I'd already given Edward a knife, so I had to revisit this and change it... Continuacy and all that...


End file.
